The Final Day of Writing

Today is the last day I have left to submit this draft to my lovely stand-in academic advisor, and I'm so tired that I no longer know what I can and can't do in academic writing. Nonetheless, I am also slightly past the point of caring what is kosher and what is not, and have put my faith into the idea that my advisor will hopefully catch whatever is not quite acceptable for academic work at her stage of checking:

A Song

The first draft is the hardest,

Baby I know,

The first draft is the hardest,

When it comes to being lucky she's cursed,

When it comes to finishing on time, she's worst.

Hello to postponing the first draft of my IP for 398398492 days, and finally being super mentally committed to finishing it by the end of this upcoming Sunday.

Sheryl Crow song link for the clueless

Haircuts and Dismay

Last week I went for a haircut across the street from TC. To my delight, my hairdresser turned out to be a Malaysian and told me that a PappaRich outlet had just opened in Flushing and she had loved it. However towards the end of my haircut I started worrying about my fringe, and thought maybe it didn't look very good. She then trimmed it a little bit more. This turned out to be a mistake, because later when I looked at my hair in the bathrooms in TC (not sure why I didn't notice it on the spot at the hair salon), I realised my fringe now looked really wonky. It was now quite short, with some parts at the farther end of my head shorter than the other bits. This annoys me incredibly especially since I have a conference to attend next week in Vancouver, where I'll be presenting a paper for the first time. Talk about nerve-wracking in itself, daft haircut that makes me look like and feel like a child not withstanding.